


ships passing in the night

by BelovedCreation



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Enchanted Forest, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 13:53:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3694763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BelovedCreation/pseuds/BelovedCreation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma “The Swan” is looking to con the biggest fish in the sea: Captain Hook. But is he more than she can handle?</p>
            </blockquote>





	ships passing in the night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [swallowedsong (bookstvnerdlove)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookstvnerdlove/gifts).



Emma “The Swan” makes her money in a variety of ways. Stealing, fraud, trickery. But once her breasts developed and she started watching whores for tips, she developed the safest and quickest way to make a quick coin: She meets a strange man at a tavern, encourages him to drink heavily (all the while, she tosses her liquor on the floor), and is invited back to his room. Depending on the man’s sobriety, physical size, and attractiveness, Emma will either let him pass out, punch him, or have sex with him. When he is dead to the world, she makes off with as many of his possessions as she can carry.

This con has served her well for several years. It keeps her from poverty, from the poor houses or the streets. And unlike the whores that reside above the taverns, she is not tied to any particular establishment. She is free to wander about the Enchanted Forest, doing as she pleases and living without anyone’s rules to guide her.

She makes her own way in the world and, frankly, it is for the best.

But as her thirtieth year draws closer (so far as she can tell from her estimation, her exact birthday unknown), she begins growing restless. The same con becomes tiresome. The seduction never really changes and the evening either ends in mediocre sex or turning a limp body over to rifle through his pockets. She is glad to have coin in her purse but she feels this itch that there must be something  _more_  for her.

So she begins to choose her targets more carefully.

It gives her a rush to know that the man she is seducing is an excellent sword fighter who could kill her without a thought. She robs a prince, sneaking him away from his guard and letting him fuck her so she can say she knows what a royal is like in bed. She outsmarts a man who claims to be the cleverest courtier in five kingdoms. The heightened stakes keep her content for a time. But whenever she hears a certain name whispered she waits in anticipation to fool him.

_Captain Hook._

His legend has spread far and wide across the Enchanted Forest. Seemingly ageless, his stories stretch back centuries. But he  _is_ real. Emma tracks his movements and waits for the day she will cross paths with the mythical figure known for his ruthlessness, cruelty, greed, and above all, his cunning.

Captain Hook will be the greatest of her achievements. After she is through with him she will move on to a new land and a new con (or she shall certainly perish in the process).

* * *

After months of planning and plotting, of keeping an ear to the ground for news of his arrival, Emma ends up stumbling into him almost by accident, their paths crossing at a bustling tavern close to the Castle Misthaven.

“Busy night,” she remarks to the barmaid, a beautiful brunette named Red.

The woman grins and passes her a pint of ale, Emma’s usual. “Captain Hook is here.”

Emma’s heart rate doubles. This is it. Tonight. She either captures the biggest victory of her life or gets killed in the process, a silver hook in her chest or throat. Emma follows Red’s gaze to a man seated, surrounded by a cheering crowd. But Captain Hook is clearly the one in the middle, the man with dice in one hand and all eyes upon him, seeking approval, seeking favor.

There is no doubt in Emma’s mind that  _this_ is Captain Hook.

And yet he is nothing as she had imagined. Although the tales are often of a young, viral man, she had expected the stories to be outdated. But no, this is still a pirate captain in his youth, his black hair without a trace of grey and the only lines on his face the ones from the crinkles around his sharp blue eyes as the woman to his right leans forward and he peers down the front of her bodice. The woman on his left leans forward as well, pressing her breasts to his side and speaking in his ear, his grin growing wider.

He tosses his dice on the table and the gathered group shouts in congratulations. Both of his arms rise in victory and she gets her first look at the famous hook, deadly and beautiful.

Turning back to Red, Emma takes a measured sip of her drink. “How long has he been here?”

“Since supper.”

“Been drinking the whole time?”

“Like a damn pirate. What else do you expect?”

“Drink of choice?”

Red pauses to give her a look before returning to her task wiping down the bar. “Rum.”

“Give me a shot.”

The barmaid pours her a small amount of the liquor and Emma takes a moment to dab it on her wrists, behind her ears, and in the dip between her breasts. She knocks back the rest of it, letting the warmth coat her lips and tongue before settling in her stomach.

No more alcohol will pass through her lips tonight.

Emma leaves her half-drank tankard of ale and strides to the table at the center of the tavern, years of confidence with every step of her feet and every swish of her hips. She stops in front of him, leaning forward and flashing a smirk.

“What are you boys playing?”

His eyes meet hers, deep blue and surprisingly soft, something she attributes to the hours of imbibing. His mouth drops a bit as he focuses not on her breasts but on her own eyes. He swallows slowly, blinks, and seemingly returning to his own mind, smiles.

* * *

Emma’s instincts have fared her well. Confident and sensual are the keys to unlocking this pirate’s treasure, and after two more rounds of dice he dismisses the whores and the crewmen, orders a bottle of rum, and she is alone with Captain Hook himself.

She smiles and flirts, caresses his knee and his dangerous appendage. She does not reveal her name. (Something tells her it will be better this way, that if she remains a mystery he will pursue her even unto revealing the bounty to be found on his ship.)

“What do you say we set sail?” he finally whispers, mouth an inch from her own so she can feel his hot breath on her lips, making her shiver with more anticipation than any prince has ever inspired. Emma takes the offered hook, wrapping her fingers around the cool metal as she stands, and feels a warmth very much like the long-drank rum pool in her belly and her thighs and her most intimate of areas.

He takes her back to his ship, the  _Jolly Roger_ , and escorts her down the ladder that leads to the Captain’s Quarters. As soon as their feet hit solid ground, her hands are on his shoulders and her hips fitted against his own, mouth tasting the spicy rum he has been drinking and the warm, wet heat of the hours of innuendo. She is greedy, taking all she can from the pirate captain himself, determined that she will have what she wishes - his body and then his gold. But when his hand cups the back of her head, fingers tangled in her long blonde curls, drawing a gasp from the back of her throat and swallowing it eagerly, she starts to wonder if she is in over her head, if perhaps stealing from a pirate captain is a horrible idea.

Her knees hit the back of his bed before she realizes he has walked her across the room, ass hitting the soft surface with a slight bounce. Hand and hook work her skirts up and part her legs so she is open to his gaze, folds wet and wanting. Although her feet are still on the ground, she feels a floating sensation rising as if this is all something she dreamed long ago.

“Just relax, lass,” he murmurs as he kneels before her, lips on her knee, hook pulling down her bodice, and knuckle softly running across her moist heat. “I was beginning to believe this would never happen and I intend to take my time with ye.”

“Never- never happen?” Emma yelps when his tongue darts out to taste her, feet rising to the end of the bed. “Are you normally so unsure of your conquests or am I that special, Captain?”

Teeth dig into her thigh and she can feel his chuckle vibrate against her flesh. “Oh yes, love, you are quite special.” The pads of his fingers dance toward her center and then finally two digits slip in, giving her a taste of what she has been wanting since the first time her skin touched his. “It is not every night that I have The Swan in my bed.”

Her gasp of pleasure turns to one of horror as his words sink in, as she realizes he knows her identity and thus her reputation. Emma wants to push him off of her and run far away, to leave this ship because now she knows that her very life will be at stake. Her hips squirm but his left arm holds her down and his right hand continues pumping his fingers in an out of her expertly, a thumb at her sensitive nub, until her pleasure overwhelms her fear and her hips buck forward and she bites her lip against the scream that erupts when he pushes her over the edge.

Her body goes limp and she waits for him to deliver the real blow. For his hook to sink into her. The whores call orgasm  _the little death_  and now she shall experience the real thing, the price for her hubris. Her legs hang off the bed and her heart feels ready to beat out of her chest and her head slowly clears again.

Instead of piercing her neck, she feels the hook dig into one hip, a hand at the other one, and he moves her to the center of the bed. Then he turns her to the side and fits his body behind her, ass to groin, back to chest, and his fingers brush her hair behind her ear so he can plant a soft kiss to her neck.

“You called me  _Captain_  just now as you came, and I called you  _Swan_  before. It would be my wish, darling, that next time, when we come together, I would call you by your given name and you would call me by mine. My real name is Killian Jones.”

Her lids finally open and instead of seeing the bright red of death, she turns in his arms to gaze in his eyes and see the blue of water, of new life. At first she had attributed their softness to the libations he had been drinking but now, in his bed and in his arms, she realizes it stems from a melancholia, from a loneliness she has only ever seen in smudged mirrors as she takes her leave from another inn.

“You know who I am.”

He nods. “Aye.”

“And yet you did not kill me.”

Half of a smile makes his face boyishly lopsided. “It would not be good form to trick and kill another pirate as such.” His finger presses against her mouth, parted in protest. “Ah, but Swan, you are truly a pirate, even if you do not sail the seas. The stories of your bravery and cunning tell of nothing less than a pirate with skills to rival my own.”

“What are you suggesting?”

His lips replace his finger, less urgent but still passionate. She feels the heat rising again, no longer fearing for her life. He pulls away and she chases his lips, not done with kissing him, perhaps never done with kissing him. “I am proposing a partnership. I could use a mind like yours on my crew.”

“So tonight was...?” She trails off and searches his eyes.

“Tonight was an audition.” Both corners of his mouth curl up this time. “One that I thoroughly enjoyed.”

There is a long moment where neither one of them speaks. Where she can still feel the tension between them crackle, the warm hardness of him pressed against her, the taste of him in her mouth. But there is a quietness in the air and Emma realizes she has reached a turning point. Whatever she says in this moment will change her life forever.

“My name is Emma.”

His smile grows and a dimple breaks out on his cheek. “Well,  _Emma_ ,” Killian sighs, tongue curling around her name as he turns her fully and she rolls on top of him. “Would you care to seal our new partnership?”

Her answer is a thrust of her hips and her mouth on his, tasting this new thing called  _partnership_. It tastes sweet, she is surprised to realize later, as she drifts to sleep with another body beside her in the bed, warm and comforting. And when she licks her lips in the morning, woken by the unfamiliar rocking of the ship and stubble brushing her shoulder, she thinks it tastes like the candy she stole from a store when she was a girl - something she never could have imagined but now that she has it she won’t dare let it go.


End file.
